


Fix You

by WritingCreatingStorytelling



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies) RPF, Chris Evans - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Angst, Daddy!Chris, Explicit Language, F/M, Heavy Angst, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingCreatingStorytelling/pseuds/WritingCreatingStorytelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is surprised when he comes home to an empty house, assuming the kids have gone out. What he doesn’t know is that the biggest shock of his life is waiting upstairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! xx

The very first thing Chris noted when he walked in the house was how eerily quiet it was, the first indicator that something was horribly wrong. It was a summer afternoon, and usually that meant the kids and their massive group of close friends would be either wreaking havoc in the Evans’ basement, or holding cannonball contests in the pool. 

They were considered _that_ house, where all the neighborhood kids – ranging in ages from 10 to 17 – would spend all day and all night at, where the blaring music could be heard from every Friday night, where Natalia had to buy groceries three times a week to keep the hungry, demanding teens from revolting. The _cool_ house everybody wanted to live at that sat at the end of the cul de sac. 

It reminded Chris of his parents’ house while growing up. He loved it. Most of the time.

“Nat!” He called out. “Babe, I’m back!”

The kids weren’t home, but Natalia sure was; he had seen the SUV parked in the garage on the way in. The rare stillness met his greeting instead of her sweet voice.

Ignoring the swirl of uneasiness that settled in the pit of his stomach, Chris dropped his set of keys in the bowl that was on the end table and began climbing the staircase. He was in dire need of a cool shower to wash off the sweat that clung to his skin after having spent almost seven hours under the heat of his buddy’s car. He was tired, dirty, and itching for a nice, relaxing afternoon with an ice cold beer. 

He had made it halfway up the stairs when a shriveled piece of paper caught his eye. Snatching it up, Chris immediately saw WALGREENS printed at the top. He chuckled to himself. Natalia was such a scatter brain sometimes that he would find loose receipts randomly around the house. 

Before he could call out her name again, ready to tease her, the purchased items made his mouth go dry.

_First Response_ pregnancy kits – **seven** of them, to be precise.

“Shit. _Oh,_ shit.”

_Pregnant_? There was no way. No possible way. She was on the five year birth control method, and it was only year three.

Chris scratched the back of his head. 

Or was it year four? Or five? _Damn_ , were they already over the fifth covered year? When did time become such a blur? 

“Fucking shit.” He passed a hand over his face, trying not to think about the flecks of gray in his beard.

_Pregnant_. 

A range of emotions surged through him all at once. He didn’t know how to feel about that. No, this wasn’t something _new_ to them, thanks to the four amazing children they had gotten blessed with. But… _now_? They weren’t exactly in their prime anymore, “slowly” nearing old age, grandpa status like the kids taunted him any chance they got.

Having another baby now wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Oh my god.” He was going to faint.

_A baby._ Another human he was responsible for. Another mouth to feed. Another _,_ another _, another…_

Chris took a seat on the step above him and let out a long exhale through his nose. Sweet memories of what felt like yesterday came flooding back. Belly laughs. Baby powder. Toothless, gummy grins. First crawls, first words, first wobbly steps.

Well, _that_ wasn’t so bad… He loved his kids, he loved them more than life itself. But raising teenagers, scratch that – raising teenage _girls_ was a lot to handle, more than he thought it would be.

But the newborn face…ten tiny fingers…ten tiny toes… _and one cute button nose!_

Smiling softly, Chris let the idea of having a crawling infant around the house again sink in; warming excitement instantly spread through him.

“Wow. Damn..” A light laugh escaped him before he could stop it. _  
_

_Another baby.  
_

He couldn’t believe it. He had to find Nat. He had to hug her and kiss her and twirl her around like he had with every positive pregnancy test.

With a new purpose, Chris grabbed the banister to lift himself up and scrambled up the rest of the stairs. He peeked in the first room in the hallway. The bathroom light was on, the floor littered with empty test boxes, but the room was empty. He did the same in their bedroom, poking his head in. Empty again.

He frowned. “Where the fu-” 

Sharp movement and hushed voices startled him. Following the sound, Chris finally stood outside of Abby’s room – the last one down the hall. He could hear Natalia’s soft voice, but her speech incomprehensible thanks to the barrier of the door that was left slightly ajar.

The uneasiness from before found him again and his chest constricted. He pushed the door open, cautiously, slowly, until his wife’s back came into view. 

She was speaking in the lowest, hushed tone he had ever heard, while holding a very distraught Abby. “Shh…it’s going to be okay…we’ll get through this…”

Chris swallowed, the anxiety rising from up from his chest. His perturbed eyes could only see one thing – his little girl clutching a pregnancy test against her mother’s back.

And then he saw nothing but **red**.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is surprised when he comes home to an empty house, assuming the kids have gone out. What he doesn’t know is that the biggest shock of his life is waiting upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! xx

“What the _fuck_ is going on?”

The stick fell from Abby’s grasp, a resounding _clack_ shortly following as it landed on the floor. Chris couldn’t hear the double gasps, couldn’t see the stiffness in his wife’s back just before his daughter jumped away from her; his senses were completely impaired by the fury that shook his insides.

“Dad!” Abby exclaimed in a stutter while Natalia whirled around to face him. Startled eyes darted between him and the pregnancy test. “It’s not - it’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh?” Chris’s brows lifted, a sliver of hope finding him. He looked to Natalia in question, eyes pleading. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Maybe it really _was_ Nat’s receipt like he had originally thought. Or maybe…

“Abigail.” He heard her say in a soft warning. The look on her face said it all, crushing every ounce of trust he had in his daughter. “Tell him.”

“Mom-”

Natalia threw Abby an encouraging look, silently communicating. _It’s going to be okay. Tell him._ “Go on.”

Abby turned back to Chris, falling sick with apprehension. He was not going to take this well. Hell, _she_ wasn’t either. The only calm and collected one so far was her mother. “I’m…pregnant.”

As soon as the words were muttered, shit hit the fan.

Chris began pacing back and forth, carding his fingers through his hair, tugging every so often while he breathed fire.

“What were you _thinking_?!” He fumed. “You are not old enough to be making these decisions! You are not old enough to have sex!”

Abby swallowed. “I’m seventeen years old, Dad. You were the same age when you lost your virginity.”

“But I was fuckin’ smart about it!” He fired back, ignoring the shame and regret that consumed her eyes. “How could you let this happen?!”

Abby wrung her hands together, focusing on a spot on the floor until it became a blur. “It was during finals week, and I - I forgot to take the pill. I didn’t think it was a-”

“The _pill_?” Chris interjected, incredulously. His pacing halted, but the anger raged inside him like an untamable storm. “Where the fuck did you get-“

His speech fell dead on his lips at the guilt that was on display before him. Natalia’s eyes slid shut, face twisting in a wince, unable to see Abby’s wide eyes flick to her in apology.

Chris’s back went rigid, his entire demeanor stock still. Then he felt himself drowning in a sea of emotions. Betrayal. Hurt. Bitterness. Anger. _Extreme_ anger. _Boiling_ anger.

“ _You_.” It came out low, menacing, enough to frighten even himself.

“Chris, I-” Nat began, but words failed her. She was guilty, there was no way to talk herself out of this. She had made a mistake. She should have trusted her instincts and told him several months ago when Abby had come to her.

Abby watched the scene before her, feeling responsible for creating the rift between her parents. _This was all her fault_. Jumping to her mother’s defense, she blurted out in a rush. “I begged her not to tell you! I knew you would react this way and I needed her advice.”

Regardless, Chris kept his eyes on his wife, who was shifting from foot to foot under his hard stare. “You knew… _for months_ …and never thought to fuckin’ tell me? You never thought to tell me my daughter was _having sex_? To _consult_ with me before putting her on the fuckin’ pill?!”

“This is all my fault. Don’t take it out on Mom. _Please_.” 

“You _encouraged_ her-“

“I didn’t _encourage_ her,” Nat argued, finding her voice, albeit trembling. “I simply told her it was her decision to make, that only she could know when the time was right, that she should wait until _she_ was ready to take that step with Alex.”

_Alex_. 

At the sound of the bastard’s name, Chris felt murderous, turning bright red. He brought his hands up in front of him, knuckles locking to form a strangling motion. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill that piece of fuckin’ shit. I _knew_ he was fuckin’ trouble from the start! I _warned_ you about him, Abigail! Fuckin’ pricks like that are only after-”

“Stop!” Abby shouted, fear swirling in her belly. She hadn’t told her boyfriend yet; he wasn’t even aware that she had suspicions of being pregnant after not getting her period for the past couple of months. “I’m in love with him and he loves me!”

“You know _shit_ about love!” Chris thundered, brows furrowed together. “You are seventeen goddamn years old; you are too fuckin’ young to know what love is!”

Natalia glowered at him, disagreeing with him. “Chris, stop.”

“You think he’s gonna stick around?” Letting out a dry, humorless laugh, Chris added, “You _really_ think assholes like him throw away a football scholarship for, what? Knockin’ some girl up in _high school_?!”

“He’s not like that! He loves me!” Abby hollered, tears collecting rapidly in her eyes before she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“He doesn’t give a _shit_ about you! Open your fuckin’ eyes, Abigail!”

“You’re wrong,” she hiccuped, trying to compose herself. “He loves me!”

“Oh, _I’m_ wrong, _I’m_ wrong,” he repeated, directing his speech up to the ceiling with his palms face up. Bringing his angered gaze back to his daughter, he said, “Is that how he got between your legs? Lyin’ about _loving_ you? You are so fuckin’ naive and _stupid_ for believin’ that shit.”

Abby gasped in shock, pained that her father would even _suggest_ she was like that. That _Alex_ was like that.

“Christopher, that is _enough,_ ” Nat stepped in, her stern face exuding her disapproval of his words. He was way out of line and she would be damned if she allowed him to continue on.

But Chris didn’t give a shit. Nothing could stop him now.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat at his wife, eyes flashing with something she had never seen before. “I have nothin’ to fuckin’ say to you!” 

Natalia staggered back, reeling from the venom he shot at her. She deserved it, she knew that. She had hurt him, gone against everything they were about. He had every right to be furious with her. But that didn’t help the blow to her chest from the way he looked at her – with pure hatred.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that!” 

Chris’s head snapped to his daughter. “It would be wise to keep your fuckin’ mouth shut right now, Abigail.”

“No! Not when you’re being an asshole to Mom!”

“Whoa, hang on,” Natalia caught Chris by the chest, stopping him from advancing towards the teen. With her head tipped back to gaze directly in his eyes, she pleaded, “Let’s all just take a second here to calm down.”

“CALM DOWN?” Chris roared, the fire blazing wildly in his orbs as he towered over her. “MY TEENAGE DAUGHTER IS FUCKIN’ PREGNANT!”

“ _Our_ daughter,” Nat corrected, trying to make him comprehend he wasn’t alone in this, that they had to support each other, they had to get through this together – as a team, as a family.

“Oh, don’t fuckin’ start with me, Natalia.” He retorted, hastily removing her hands from his chest and pushing away from her. He turned his back on them, fingers weaving together on top of his head. “This is unbelievable. _Unbelievable_!”

His breath hitched within his throat, Abby and Natalia witnessing the raging anger diminishing until he was completely despondent.

“Dad-”

“Baby-”

“What about school?” He started, voice now quivering. “All the plans you had. Your hopes and dreams. Your _future_.” Exhaling a slow, long breath, he finished, “You can kiss all of that goodbye now.”

Abby began to sob, the reality of _everything_ sinking in. She felt her mother’s arms wrap around her from behind, felt her lips comfortingly press against her aching head.

Chris closed his eyes, the sound of his daughter’s despair cutting his airways. This was too much. This was all too much. Too much and too… _soon._

“She’s going to finish school,” Natalia spoke with confidence, reassurance, stroking her daughter’s long, brown hair. “And after graduation, she’ll move onto college, whether that be a four year university or courses at a Community college. It’ll be fine, we’ll figure it all out, okay?” She smiled warmly when Abby nodded, then looked to Chris for the same.

Chris wanted to believe that. He truly wanted to. But he didn’t know if he could.  Their world – _her world_ – was going to turn upside down in a matter of months. He remembered the sleepless nights, the constant diaper changes and feedings. Doctor appointments, safe remedies for sick infants. The endless worrying, the fear for their safety. And still having to work for a living to make sure he could provide for them, to ensure they never went without. She had _no_ idea how hard raising a child was.

_Fuck_ , he cursed to himself. Thinking back to when he was her age, there was no way _he_ was ready for that kind of responsibility. Hell, he _hadn’t_ been ready until after meeting Natalia in his mid-thirties. She was _seventeen._ A child herself.

_How could this have happened? Why? Not them. Not his little girl._

Chris dropped his arms to his sides, shoulders drooping in defeat. “I thought you were smarter than this,” he whispered, frowning at the picture that rested on the bureau. A family photo that was taken on the last annual Disney trip, her bright, carefree smile pointed at the camera.

She was too young for this. Her childhood was coming to a premature end. She had to grow up now and fast, forced to give up all the life experiences he had hoped for all his kids before they settled down to raise a family.

Abby let out a choked sob, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry for being such a disappointment,” she managed to say, voice strained. “I never meant to let you down, daddy.”

_Daddy_.

The sting in his eyes was incomparable to the piercing pain in his heart. He was suffocating. Drowning. Sick to his stomach. He had to get out there. _Fast_.

And so, he did. He stalked out of the room, rushed down the stairs in a panic while his wife called out to him, and stormed out the front door, shutting out the deafening wails of his daughter.

And then he fell to his knees, dry-heaving, tearing at the seams.


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xx

By the time Chris returned home, night had fallen several hours ago. The truck rode along the path of the lengthy driveway, the light beams disturbing the mystic atmosphere that owned the late hour. It was anything but peaceful inside the vehicle, the stress and apprehension thick. He was calmer now, more collected, albeit still pissed and hurt.

While talking it out at his mother’s, he had been hit with two new emotions. Fear and shame. Fear for his daughter, the life she had to lead now, the noisy whispers and degrading slurs from her peers and, because of him, the media. They were all going to tear her to shreds, surely enough to damage her self-esteem, her self-worth. It tore him apart to think she now had to go through that, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to prevent it. Not really, anyway.

And then came the shame of his actions, of the poor choice of words he had flung at her in his unconstrained rage, playing a part in the demise of her emotional stability. It cut him deeply. It damaged _his_ emotional stability. 

And as he had showered off the day in his childhood home, mind hazy with the copious amount of whiskey his mother had poured for him, it had made him wonder. _Was this all his fault_?

He hadn’t been a perfect father. He had his faults, his mistakes, just like every parent did. But unlike most parents, he had something entirely else that haunted him – the lengthy absences from their daily lives time and time again. _Months_ of him being away with only a couple long weekends visits or traveling with him for a couple weeks in the summer. He fell in the absent father category more times than necessary.

Those long periods of time without him couldn’t have been easy on the kids, and he worried that because of _that_ , of his job and who he was in the public eye, this was in a way _karma_ , this was Abby acting out to spite him.

That same guilt had wormed its way into his head once again, as it had been since that first time he had to leave an upset infant all those years ago. He didn’t know what to do, how to rid those anxieties. They were there, always there, right at the back of his mind.

Maybe this _was_ all his fault. He could have prevented this, _should_ have been able to. Now everything was so beyond out of his control.

Chris inhaled sharply once the headlights illuminated the figure that sat on the front steps. Natalia. She had been expecting his arrival. _Goddamn it, Ma_. She must have called her the second he had gotten in his truck. 

With his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel, the tires rolled to a premature stop several feet short from the garage doors. His jaw locked in place and he tried to swallow the anger that rose in his throat at the sight of his wife. He thought he had been ready to face her, to hash it out and uncover what else she had kept from him, but apparently he had thought wrong. Very wrong. Just one look at her and he was ready to blow up again.

Taking a few deep, calculated breaths, Chris tried to compose himself. Fighting with her outside in the middle of the night was going to get them nowhere. It would only make matters worse. And the last thing they needed was for the neighborhood gossip queen – Nosy Nancy, he liked to call her – to peek through her windows. Right now, he had to focus on getting inside and making amends with his daughter. Then he would worry about his marriage.

Chris hopped out of the truck, slammed the door with a little more force than what was necessary, and pressed the lock device on his keyring. Eyes cast down and hands tucked inside the pockets of his jeans, he made the journey to the front porch, brows knitting together in vexation. He counted each step, each crack in the concrete, each slow inhale and slower exhale as a form of anger management. It had worked, because by the time he reached her – still keeping a safe distance between them – he felt collected enough to lift his eyes.

The humidity still clung to the air, but that didn’t stop Natalia from wearing her father’s old business sweatshirt – her Linus blanket. Chris’s eyes fell to the wine glass she was nursing, the dark red contents reaching just below the half mark. However, what really had caught his attention was the open pack of Newport she held in one hand, the carton pressed against the glass.

 _Shit,_ she had found the hidden pack.

Because of the porch light, Natalia was able to notice the flicker in his eyes just before they averted downward – he had been caught. _Good_ , she thought, _fuckin’ asshole._

She cleared her throat before speaking, voice hoarse from not being used in a while, “I thought about saving these-” She brought the cigarettes into the light, “-to throw in your face if you decided to fucking attack me about withholding shit from you. But then I thought against it.”

Chris shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, kicking an imaginary rock with his boot. “Why?” He asked, curtly.

Natalia sighed, pursing her lips in agitation. “Because even though you’re an asshole and there’s nothing more I would like to do right now than fucking strangle the shit out of you, you have every right to be pissed at me. You have every right to throw a tantrum and cuss me out, and walk the fuck out like you’re so good at doing-”

His hands balled into tight fists inside the safety house of his jeans, but he didn’t speak, he didn’t spit out a single word, not trusting himself enough to. The goal here was to keep his cool until things were somewhat settled with Abby, no matter how much his wife provoked him. 

What he didn’t know was that Natalia wanted the same.

“But your behavior with Abby was _unacceptable_ and don’t you think for a _second_ I’m going to stand by and let you get away with the shit you said to her. Our daughter – _our_ daughter, Chris-”

The crack in her voice stabbed him in the chest, but when he looked up, Natalia’s face was stone cold, no evidence or sign of the breakdown he knew was cracking inside of her.

“-is dealing with the biggest shock of her life. She is lost and _scared_ , and completely torn apart because _you_ made her believe that her father thinks so lowly of her, that _you_ are ashamed to have her as your daughter.”

And the knife in his heart kept on twisting, and twisting, and twisting.

Natalia held her tongue, the anger dwindling from the grimace that took over his hard features. Seeing him suffer like this, seeing him hurting… _Fuck_ , it pained _her_ just as much as it pained him.

Softly, with tears brimming her eyes, she proceeded, “Abby needs you. She needs her father, to know she has his love and support, to hear that he is proud to have her as a daughter, to encourage her. She needs that from _you_.”

Wiping the sides of her wet face on the long sleeves, she concluded, “So, this _war_ or whatever the hell you want to call it between us, has to wait.”

Chris nodded, audibly sniffling, unable to inhale the sticky air properly. Then, through the lump in his throat, he asked, “Where is she?”

Natalia took a small sip of Merlot, praying to keep it together until he was out of sight. “Upstairs.”

—

As soon as Chris walked inside the central aired house and made his way up the stairs, the suffocation of panic choked him. The dark hallway stared back at him, taunting him as he stood frozen in place, calling him a coward.

He felt like one. There was no denying that.

So, instead of taking the courageous strides towards the bedroom at the end of the hall, he dashed in the bathroom to wash his hands and splash cold water on his heated face. After feeling a tiny bit refreshed, he poked his head inside every other bedroom aside from the master, bidding each sleeping child a low-toned goodnight. Then his disheveled reflection from the mirror that hung on the wall near her room grabbed his previously dispersed attention. He carded his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the mess before rubbing his face and scratching his beard. 

Chris puffed out a breath, shaking his head at himself. _Pathetic._ He was stalling, there was no other way to put it, and he looked like a heroin addict while doing so.

A small, muffled cough came from behind the shut door to his right. His head snapped towards it and a tight ball of fear formed in the pit of his stomach.

 _Shit, she can probably hear me_.

Chris found himself standing directly in front of the door. He rubbed his hands together, cracked his neck, then rolled his shoulders back – psyching himself up. Once he felt okay enough to proceed, he knocked softly before opening it with nothing but caution.

Abby’s gaze tore away from the book she was reading on her bed and flitted to the door, ready to rebuke whichever sibling that had decided to barge in her room so late. Her puffy eyes widened when she saw her father standing there, looking sheepish with his shoulders slightly hunched forward.

“Hi,” he croaked, then cleared the frog in his throat.

Abby immediately sat up, the book laying open across her crossed legs. “Hi,” she returned in a whisper.

Chris’s shifted further into the room, his lips forming the tiniest of smiles, having caught her escaping in another universe. She got that from him, turning to the fictional world when real life became too heavy, needing a few moments out of their own bodies.

“Whatcha readin’?” He asked, his feet taking on an unhurried, snail pace to sit on the edge of her bed.

“Book one from the Anne of Green Gables series.”

Chris watched her dog ear the page she was on, a secret smile spreading on his face. 

She refused to conform to the overuse of gadgets that made kids her age – and most adults – hungry for the latest high-tech device that was all the rage. Instead of an ebook reader, she preferred using library cards and filling every corner of her bedroom with paperbacks. 

He chuckled to himself, recalling the times her kid brother called her a tree-killer and an accomplice to destroy Mother Earth, intentionally riling her up until she stormed off and locked herself in her room. God, that felt like eons ago now, back when she was _just a kid_.

After setting the book aside, Abby looked up at him with nervous eyes, taking note of how much _older_ he already looked since the last time she saw him – merely hours ago.

“I know it’s late and you should get some sleep after the whirlwind of today.” Chris paused, feeling the pang of guilt in his chest when her sorrowful orbs averted down to the duvet.  “But do you mind if we talk for a while?” 

“Sure,” she whispered with a half-shrug. “Whatever you want, Dad.”

Chris sucked the air in through his nostrils, holding his breath for a couple seconds before releasing it in a whoosh out his mouth. “So, you’re pregnant,” he blurted, matter-of-fact, still not okay with the way it sounded in his mouth.

“Dad-”

“Listen, I want to start by apologizing for my behavior earlier. I was way out of line,” he tutted, “So out of line that there _was_ no line.”

Abby brought her head back up. The tearful expression that stared right at him blocked his airways, refusing to accept any oxygen.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said breathlessly, his own eyes welling up. “I’m so sorry for acting the way I did, for saying that nasty shit to you. I - I’m a _horrible_ father and-”

“You’re not a horrible father-” Abby piped up, her voice gentle but full of truth. “You reacted the way you react.”

“Which is pretty damn shitty.”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah, but it’s because you care.” Tugging the strands of hair that fell in her face behind her ear, she went on to stress, “I _know_ you care, Dad. You care about all of us, sometimes too much. That’s why you react as strongly as you do. But that’s also the reason why it’s hard for us to come to you with certain problems. It doesn’t mean that we don’t value your opinion, because of course we do – _I do_ , more than you know. But we can’t – I can’t talk to you about boys or…sex.”

Chris was quiet, pulling at his lips while mulling over her honesty. She was right. Of course, she was right. _Why was every woman in this damn house always right?_

“I get what you’re saying. The thing is, this is so out of – I can’t think of the proper word.” He frowned, rubbing his forehead then scratching his head. “My relationship with my parents has always been an open one.”

“I know.”

“Sex, girls, booze, weed – those were all topics open for discussion. There was no hesitation, no fear involved when I told your grandparents I smoked a joint and tasted beer while underage for the first time, or when I ran home to tell Grandma I had sex for the first time. I guess, I guess that – I don’t know, I wanted that to be the same with my kids. Know what I mean?”

Abby nodded. “Yeah. And we do, we talk about… stuff, all the time.” 

She pursed her lips, wracking her brain for a way to say what she had to say next without it sounding like she was using the double standard. “It’s different when it’s a dad with his daughter. I can understand why that is. I was your little girl and the thought of me doing all those teenage things is _scary_ to you. You see me as a little kid, a girl in pigtails wearing those ugly ass sweaters and hats Titi Camila used to send.” 

They shared a light laugh at the memory. 

“And you’re only recalling _your_ relationship with Grandma and Grandpa. What about Grandpa and Auntie Carly and Auntie Shanna? I’m sure he felt just the way you do about…sex.”

Once again, she was right.

“It’s the whole ‘being daddy’s little girl’ thing,” she continued on when she saw the light in his eyes. “I get that, Dad. But you also have to get – you have to _understand –_ that I’m not a baby anymore.”

“You’ll always be my baby,” Chris whispered, tilting his head to the side. A solemn shift settled around them, wetness once again forming at the corners of their eyes. “And now… Fuck, now my baby is having a baby.”

The sadness in his tone broke Abby, the dam now wide open as endless tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she cried in her hands, unable to look him straight in the eyes. 

Chris swallowed and blinked, but it did nothing; the drops slipped out of his burning eyes, the backs of his hands catching most of them before his pants did. 

He spoke through the ball in his throat, “I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you. I don’t think you’re a slut or easy, Abigail. I would never think that of you, regardless of what my anger barks out.”

Abby continued to sob behind her hands, her body wracking by the force of her cries. Chris shifted closer until he was able to wrap his arms around her, closing his eyes in a refusal of allowing any more tears to fall. He had to be strong for her, he had to be the fixer, the parent.

“I’m so scared,” Abby admitted, hiccuping. “I’m so scared, Daddy.”

Chris pressed a kiss on her head. “I know, sweetheart. I’m scared, too.” After a brief pause, he added with a soft smile, “But that’s what being a parent is. Being scared. All the time, in various ways. Your infant has a tiny cough, you freak the fuck out and call every pediatrician in town. They take their first steps, you’re afraid they’re going to fall and wind up hurt. They make new friends, you worry they’ll forget about you and you won’t be the cool dad they want to hang around with anymore. They…they tell you they’re pregnant at seventeen, and you’re _terrified_ , absolutely terrified.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, this time a fraction less hysterical.

“I’m sorry, too.”

He let her cry for a few more minutes, telling her everything was going to be okay, that they were a family and the Evans family stuck together, no matter what. He promised her that he was there, would always be there, would always love and support her. And then he encouraged her to be the woman she always wanted to be, that being a young mother wasn’t an excuse to put her dreams on hold, that she could be _both,_ a loving mother and a dedicated career woman – just like her mother was.

“You are exceptionally smart, Abigail. I am so, incredibly proud of you, for everything you have already accomplished, and for everything that I _know_ you will accomplish in the future. If anyone can shove statistics and pie charts about teen moms up those unbelieving asses, my Abby girl can.”

Abby broke the embrace, peeking up at him through red, swollen eyes, hopeful. “You really think so?”

Chris’s mouth curved up, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I _know_ so, honey. I believe in you, I have faith in you. It’s gonna be hard, I’m not gonna lie or sugarcoat it for you. You will have nights where you don’t think you’re going to fucking make it through and you’ll want to quit and just give up. You will bust your ass and one moment, one critic, one fucking asshole will demolish all your hard work and tear you the fuck apart.”

His smile grew into a trembling grin. “But that’s what we’re here for. Your mother and I… your sisters and your brother, aunts and uncles… Grandma and Grandpa… your - your _baby_ – _all_ of us will be here to ensure you don’t stop until you achieve your goals. We got your back, kiddo.”

Abby threw her arms around him, knocking the wind out of him. He let out a smothered laugh, securing her in his arms.

She hugged him tight, really believing for the first time she would be okay, she would make it. Her, Alex, _and their baby_.

“Can you do me a favor?” She whispered in his shoulder after a long stretch of silence, relishing in the warmth of one of her daddy’s enormous bear hugs – the best hugs in the world that could fix _anything_.

Chris snickered. “Sure, whatcha got for me?”

“Please don’t be mad at Mom.”

And just like that, the smile wiped clean from his face. Chris didn’t respond; he simply gathered her in for a bigger hug, letting out an audible sigh.

“Dad…”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xx

Stepping outside from the well air-conditioned house was a shock in itself to Chris. The excessive humidity was still heavy in the night air, stifling him when he tried to take a courageous breath. He stood with his back inches from the shut front door, at a loss of what to do next.

After his heart to heart with Abby, he had stayed until she had fallen asleep, inattentively skimming through the pages she had been reading before he had made his appearance. His mind had been somewhere else, understandably so, preoccupied with the burden of what waited for him outside on the front porch.

At first Chris had planned to head to bed himself, the exhaustion from the day creating an ache in his head and a tiredness in his bones. He didn’t have the energy to battle with his wife, he wasn’t sure if he even had the heart to. So he had waited, keeping an ear out for the distinctive click of the door downstairs before the careful footsteps would ascend the staircase, hoping his wife would decide it be wise to catch some sleep and deal with it later.

Hoping had been deemed pointless, and ignoring her would have been too imprudent – he _was_ smarter than that, or so he told himself. So minutes after Abby’s breathing pattern had taken on a slow, calculated rhythm, Chris had stood from the bed and stretched his stiff limbs before dropping a gentle kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

He had been sluggish in his movements, descending the stairs slowly, mentally counting each step. Then he had poured himself a tumbler of whiskey – dismissing the self-reprimands of already having a fair amount of liquor at his mother’s –, and grabbed the half-depleted bottle of Merlot before heading into the war zone.

Natalia sat in the same spot he had found her in earlier, only now she was dressed in a tank top, her father’s sweatshirt folded beside her with the pack of cigarettes set neatly on top. Her long hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and because her head was upturned, surely so she could gaze up at the wondrous night-sky, Chris could see the perspiration that dampened the surrounding hair at her hairline.

_Shit_. She had been sitting here for a very long time.

Before Chris opened his mouth to speak – albeit having no concrete greeting –, Natalia beat him to it.

“Did we fail as parents?”

The unrelenting heat was incomparable to the heaviness of the whispered question that hung in the air.

Chris’s throat tightened. That was something he had been pondering all night, and had yet to come up with a positive conclusion. Rooted to the door, he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, ruminating on how to answer such a soul-crushing query.

The thing was that he felt like he _had_ failed as a parent, he felt like a failure, more so now after his talk with Abby. She had been right. It was difficult for the kids to go to him about certain things, he couldn’t deny that. He was a hardass in a lot of ways, the type of father he never envisioned himself to be.

When the kids were younger, his parenting had a lot to do with overcompensating; he had let them get away with a lot, despite how much that irritated his wife. It was his way of coping with the guilt of being absent, his way of indirectly asking for their forgiveness and to not hate him. God, he’d been spending _years_ tiptoeing around the meat of the issue, and it still hadn’t been brought to light – until now.

_Did we fail as parents?_ Chris pinched his lips together. _Maybe_ , he guessed. But he couldn’t very well come out and voice that. Not yet. Not until he knew for sure there was no redemption here.

So what the fuck was he supposed to say in the meantime? She was expecting an answer, that much he knew. He could tell by the way she hadn’t kept talking like she usually did with rhetorical questions.

Chris chuckled ironically to himself. Nat always teased him about being a man of many words, now here he was, standing on weak knees, wracking his brain for something acceptable to say. If she only knew.

Pushing himself forward, he took the seat beside her on the top step, the bulky piece of clothing and Newports separating them. He saw her gasp from the corner of his eye more than he heard it, her chest expanding and her hunched forward posture straightening. She feared him. Not that he would physically hurt her – because he _never_ had and _never_ would –, but that the hate that she found in his eyes hours ago would still be there.

With his waist slightly twisted at the side, regarding her in a guarded way, Chris confessed in a murmur, “Been asking myself the same thing.”

Natalia responded by nodding her head wordlessly, then averted her eyes from the ethereal beauty of the twinkling lights when she felt him shift next to her. She watched him pour what was left of the Merlot into her empty glass, trying to control the trembling of her hands. “How is she?” She asked.

“Sleeping for now,” Chris answered evenly, twirling the amber liquid before bringing it up to his lips for an appreciable taste. His face contorted as he swallowed it down, then gravelly added, “She’ll be alright.”

Natalia took her own hefty gulp of the pricey wine that had traveled back home with them from their trip to Napa Valley – a second honeymoon to celebrate their 20th year of wedded bliss. They had had the time of their lives, no kids, no adult responsibilities. Just husband and wife, just Chris and Nat, enjoying each others company in the unique charm of the towns, losing themselves in the simplicity of the beautiful vineyards while partaking in a whole lot of day drinking, and making love in the middle of a Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. And, of course, the weekend, too.

Chris noticed Natalia’s facial reaction was far less twisty than his. Judging by how much she had already drunk, he guessed that she could probably barely taste the bitter dryness of it at this point; her tastebuds usually grew accustomed to the absence of sugar once she reached halfway of the second glass.

Natalia took in another few shaky breaths, her parted, red-stained lips attracting his attention before they traveled downward, Chris taking note of the way the tops of her breasts quivered along with her heaving chest. Her bent knees were beginning to shake in an up and down motion, and her fingers were fidgeting around the wineglass, a clear indicator that the buzz she had been nursing for quite some time was no longer working in her favor at keeping the anxiety at bay.

Chris didn’t need to wonder what was going on inside of her head, he already knew the whirlwind of thoughts were there. Normally, when she was suffering through one of her infrequent attacks, he would pull her to him and press his lips against her temple, demanding her to find the quiet in his _shhh_ ’s. It worked for them, every time, because that’s what they had mastered – working as a team. _Until she wrecked that_.

The whiskey was knocked back in one swift flick of his wrist, burning all the way down to his stomach. He welcomed it, relishing in the way it was able to steal his attention for the very brief moment of numbness.

_Here we go._

“So, when were you gonna tell me?”

Chris could’ve sworn he heard her mutter something in Spanish, most likely a curse, before Natalia stammered out a reply, “Wh-what?”

That rose the irritation he felt towards her by a few degrees. “About the pill, Natalia,” he snarled, brows drawn together. “About our daughter having sex. About the fact that you went behind my back and made fuckin’ decisions like _my_ say meant shit.”

While Chris went on a rant, Natalia brought the wine back up to her mouth and took a large gulp, then another, and another. She drank until she reached the inevitable bottom, all the while willing herself not to burst into tears over the venom directed at her. Unfortunately, that meant she would have to dive into a coping mechanism that did more damage than healing.

Natalia twisted to face him directly, ready to attack back. “Well, excuse me for wanting to be a good mother!” She said, brusquely. “I was trying to be there for her, Jesus Christ. She came to me because she _knew_ she could without getting fuckin’ judged. Y’know, without getting called a _slut_.”

“I _never_ said she was a _slut_.” Chris shoved a finger close to her face, fire blazing in his eyes while he ignored the sting of her accusation. It nearly killed him to think his poor actions and lack of filter when he was angry caused pain and self-worth doubts in his daughter – or in _anyone_ , for that matter. He would never think of her in that way – _ever_.

Natalia puffed out a humorless laugh. “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes and slapping his finger away, “you might as well have. You said she was naive and basically called her an easy lay!”

“Oh, lay off me, Natalia.”

“No! You were out of line, Christopher. You do not get to act like a fuckin’ prick, you do not get to shout at the kids in the way you did with her, and then just – just fuckin’ storm out like a goddamn pussy! I will not fuckin’ have it.”

Chris was silent for a few minutes. There was no hiding that he felt shameful of his actions, even after the air was cleared with Abby. He had his faults, and walking away when he reached his top limit was one of them. He had to work on that, especially now when this was just the tip of the iceberg.

“I am so _sick_ and _tired_ of you walking out,” Natalia continued, voice wavering by the tormented look on his face. “How many times are we going to go over this before you _grow the fuck up_?”

His brows shot up. “Oh, ‘cause _I’m_ the only one that’s a fuckin’ asshole here?”

“Excuse me?” Natalia’s back went straight, her defense walls coming up.

“Whatever, I’m an asshole, yes, let’s all chant Chris is an asshole. I admit that I  - I _am_ one, okay. And the thing with Abby… we talked it out; I’ve said my apologies, I still regret the way I reacted, but whatever; it is what it is. I can’t fuckin’ change it now.”

Narrowing his eyes, Chris proceeded in a growl, “But don’t act all fuckin’ innocent with me, sweetheart.” He tutted and muttered an “ _innocent, my ass_ ” before raising his voice back to a normal level, albeit it dripping with indignation. “You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about. You are not allowed to pull out the victim card that you are so quick to play.”

Natalia crossed her arms. “If you are referring to me not telling you about Abby-”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he stressed, “God, it’s not – it’s not _just_ that, Natalia. It’s not even about that! Jesus, you - you fuckin’ straight out _lied_ -”

“I didn’t lie,” she argued, grimacing at the wild look in his eyes. “I withheld-”

“ _No_ ,” Chris interjected, pointedly. “You fuckin’ _lied_ to me. This happened months ago, right? Around the time that I was off doing the _Troika_ reshoots.” Her face fell and he knew he got her. “Yeah. I asked you what was new with the kids. I fuckin’ asked you what was goin’ on, if there was shit I was missin’ out on. And what did you fuckin’ say to me?”

She remembered that phone call. Her throat had felt like it was going to close up when he had asked, just like it was now. She was disinclined to answer this time, too. “Nothing new here,” she answered in just above a whisper.

Chris’s arms swung out, like she had just delivered the punch line. “That’s right, there it is. ‘ _Nothing new here, Chris_.’”

She was an asshole. If not a bigger one than he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, bullshit!”

Taking a sharp breath, Natalia took a quick glance around the mostly dark yard. “Please, keep your voice down. The neighbors-”

“Fuck the neighbors!” He exploded, his hand waving in dismissal. “If they want to fuckin’ be little bitches and talk shit-”

“Chris, _please_.”

By now, Natalia wouldn’t doubt if at least two houses had their living room lights on to get a glimpse of the commotion outside. Not that she really cared what they had to say in their gossip groups. She didn’t. But what she did give a shit about was the wrong person catching wind of their troubles and it being plastered all over the supermarket check-out aisles, or the rumors spreading like wildfire over the internet. Not only would that be bad for his career, but it was also none of the world’s business what went on in their private life. Their private home life was _their_ private home life, and it had taken _years_ of dedication on ensuring they could still lead a relatively normal life.

Well, there was something she hadn’t thought about. The media finding out about the well-respected actor turned director, Chris Evans, having a pregnant daughter still in high school. _Fuck_. They were going to get hounded and torn to shreds. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

“-goddamn gossip queens who have nothin’ better to do than to-” 

Chris was still going off, sputtering about the stay-at-home mothers of the neighborhood that annoyed the shit out him while Natalia tried to banish away the newly developed anxieties towards future. She couldn’t deal with that, not right now, not when they were so much more that needed to be handled first.

“Listen,” Natalia sighed, her features scrunching up with a look of consternation, “Forget about them. I want you to hear me out, okay. I’m sorry-”

Chris had tried to reign in his anger, but those two words were meaningless to him now. “Fuck your goddamn apology! Fuck you!”

Just as suspected, a new light cast a glow through the trees that lined the far side of the driveway, creating more series of shadows than the moon’s natural light ever could. It was enough to jostle Chris, who deep down was acutely aware of how fast entertainment reporters could pay out ‘unidentified sources’.

Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time they were faced with untrustworthy friends. And it was patently obvious it wouldn’t be the last with having Nancy Freedman as the head cheerleader of the cul-de-sac. 

Dropping his tone down a few octaves, Chris said, “Y’know what, Natalia? I don’t fuckin’ care. I don’t fuckin’ care that you’re sorry, ‘cause… Y’know what, you can never be –” He stumbled, trying to articulate his thoughts, “– you can never fuckin’ be _nearly_ as sorry as I am.”

Natalia stared blankly, waiting for him to expand on his meaning, her heart racing so fast she was sure it was about to beat out of her chest. “What do you mean?”

Chris sucked in the sticky air, using his free hand to card his fingers through his hair, unmindful of the damp strands he came across. “I’m a fuckin’ _idiot_ for believing twenty years of marriage was built on love and trust, on fuckin’ _respect_.”

“Chris,” Natalia started, wetness pooling in her eyes, her heart aching. “It _is_. Of course, it is. Of course _, we are_.”

“I thought we were a team.” He shook his head, talking more to himself than to her, casting his eyes down in dejection. “I thought we had each others backs. I thought we made decisions _together_.”

“We _do_ ,” she gracelessly wiped her dripping nose with the back of her hand, voice strained with remorse. “We _are_ a team.”

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other,” he went on, lifting his sorrowful orbs, witnessing the tears roll freely down her flushed cheeks.

Natalia didn’t know what else to say, how to make this right. She had messed up, and now she scrambled for a solution, for a way to make him stop going down the road she feared he was on. She came up empty handed. “We don’t, Chris.”

“Evidently, _you do_.” 

It pained him to say it, but it tore him apart even more to know that it was actually true. After all these years together, this was how she betrayed him. 

“I trusted you,” he choked out, “I trusted you to never lie to me like that. You were the _one_ person in my life I could depend on to never make me feel this way, Natalia.”

“Chris, I-”

“I never, _not once_ , thought I would ever doubt you; I didn’t think I ever had to. But now all I can think is… All I can think is, ‘ _what else is she keeping from me_ ’, ‘ _what else don’t I know that she does_ ’.”

“Nothing!” Natalia answered without missing a beat, sniffling. “Nothing, baby. I’m sorry,” she tearfully whispered, curling her fingers around his forearm. “I fucked up. I made a mistake. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Chris hastily removed himself from her grasp, deeply wounding her with the action. “When were you gonna fuckin’ tell me? Huh? Because I can’t fuckin’-” His speech faltered, surprising the both of them. It was because she was crying, one of his weaknesses. No matter how pissed and hurt he was, her tears choked him, broke him down.

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, breathing in slow, deep breaths to get a handle of the emotions coursing through him, a wide range of them that could drown anyone.

“Chris…” 

Natalia acted on second nature. Quickly plucking the drained tumbler out of his grasp, she set the two drained glasses far behind them, then went to slide a comforting hand across his upper back. Relief washed over her when Chris didn’t deny her touch, encouraging her to swing her other arm around his front until his bicep was flush against her chest. 

“I love you. I love you so much, baby. Please…just – just _please_.” She set her chin on the curve of his shoulder, pleading eyes staring at him, willing him to _just please look at her._

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he could ever look at her the same again. Not after this.

Minutes went by before Chris was able to muster up the strength needed to say what was breaking his heart. “I don’t know if I can get past this.”

That was the _last_ thing Natalia expected him to say.


	5. Part Five (Final)

Shocked to the core, Natalia let up on the tight embrace, her arms falling around him. “What are you-” She paused mid-whisper to swallow the panic, “What are you saying?”

Chris didn’t know what he was saying, what his heavy words meant for them. He had reached the point where maybe the exhaustion and extreme stress of the situation at hand were clouding his judgement. Was he giving up on them? On their marriage? Everything they worked for? His head wasn’t screwed on enough to answer that. He needed time, a good night’s sleep, before he could conclude on where to go from here.

After a pregnant pause, he answered, truthfully, “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Natalia felt sucker punched, like he had dropped an atomic bomb on their marriage, and all she could do was watch it burn.

Despite the August summer heat, Chris instantly felt cold from the loss of contact. He remained sitting face forward, stubbornly refusing to glance her way once she situated herself back to her own space. Just one look at her crumbling exterior and his resolve would fly right out the window. And, from past experience, sweeping problems under the rug would only cause them to multiply beneath the surface, all the while creating irreparable resentment.

Minutes went by before Natalia decided to break the uncomfortable quiet. “We were shopping for her Winter Social dress when she asked me how I knew I was ready to have sex.”

Chris scrubbed his palms raw on his jean-clad thighs. _It was a bit too late for this_ , he thought, but he was just too tired to fight, too worn out to snap at her.

Natalia took another small breath, wringing her hands together out of nervous habit. When he hadn’t interrupted her like she had expected him to, she went on. “I told her the truth; I never really questioned it, I just kinda _knew_. We had been in the same circle of friends since middle school, so after we started dating sophomore year, it just seemed like it was the next thing to do, y’know.”

Chris swallowed, the pang of jealousy piercing through him. No amount of security could diminish the jealous streak when he pictured her with another man, even if that was ancient history.

“She asked me if I regretted it.”

Curiosity killed the cat. “What did you say?” He asked, gravelly.

She stole a glance his way, taking note of his set jaw before her eyes fell to his hands that were balled into tight fists. Hesitantly, she revealed, “I didn’t have regrets.”

“Okay.”

She waited a beat before continuing. “I asked her if she thought she was ready, and she said her and Alex had been fooling around for a while, but she felt ready to go further than just foreplay.”

Chris’s face contorted. His daughter using the word _foreplay_ was…weird. And disturbing.

“I asked her if Alex had been pressuring her but she was quick to shoot that thought down. She promised he always asked her first before they got into anything, and he promised to wait until she was completely sure, and that he loved her and would do anything to keep her safe.”

His fists clenched unbelievably tighter, knuckles turning white. _You let her believe that_ , he refrained from barking.

“So, I said if she was seriously considering having sex, the best thing to do would be to start the pill, but I had to consult you before scheduling the appointment. She immediately started crying and begged me not to tell you; she didn’t want you to look at her differently. I tried to reassure her about that, I did, Chris, I tried to-”

“But?”

“She was too scared. So, I made her a deal. I would make the appointment if she promised to tell you herself when you got back.”

“Except she fuckin’ didn’t. And neither did you.”

Natalia inhaled deeply, holding in the hot air for a few, lengthy seconds. Silently, she stared down at her trembling hands, the words stuck in her throat.

“Why didn’t you?” Chris demanded, desperately trying to keep his voice even.

“Because I was being selfish,” she regretfully admitted, busying herself with twisting the bands that were at home on her ring finger. “I was so afraid of it putting a strain on our mother-daughter relationship that I failed to think of the repercussions.”

Although she hadn’t said it, Chris was able to put two and two together. The underlying issue here was Natalia’s nonexistent relationship with her own mother.

Back when their first pregnancy test confirmed to be positive, Natalia had expressed her insecurities, her doubts about her ability to be a good mother when she had had a poor example of one. She had woken him up in the middle of the night, her cheeks tear-stained, fear swimming in her brown pools, and chest heaving in panic. She wanted to break the cycle. She wanted the mother-daughter bond with her girls that she had always longed for.

Chris sympathized with her, having witnessed the emotional damage Nat’s mother was responsible for. He now understood why she had been hesitant to create a rift between her and Abby. But, as much as the universe wanted it to, her valid reasoning still didn’t fix things. It didn’t fix _them_.

“Well, thank you for telling me.”

Her eyes shimmered with tears, remorse constricting her chest. “I should have told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should have, but I guess I understand,” he conceded, the agitation still evident.

Another hush fell around them, this time stretching out longer than any other. The pair sat side by side, albeit feeling miles apart. Staring out into the last half hour or so of the night before the sun would announce a new day, they reflected.

“Do you ever wonder what they would’ve been like?”

Chris sucked in a breath. _Fuck_ , he needed a smoke if they were going there. Stretching out his left leg, he dug deep in his pocket for the lighter he had forgotten to give back to his brother, then quickly snatched up the pack of cigarettes to slide one out, Natalia watching out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, not until he lit the end and took a long drag, eyes fluttering at the first taste of the nicotine. 

“Every day,” he whispered the same true answer he always did. 

The truth was this wasn’t the first time Natalia had asked him this, nor would it be the last. It had been two decades and the pain, the grief of the losses, were just as fresh. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ , could ever make them forget.

Chris took one more drag before offering it to her, watching the smoke release between his lips when she plucked the burning stick out of his grasp. 

Natalia sniffled after blowing out the smoke, then rolled her tongue along the front of her teeth, her nose wrinkling at the ashy taste in her mouth. _God_ , it had been years since she last had a smoke. She remembered the way it used to calm her for a minute or two, her brain solely focusing on the inhale and exhale pattern rather than the clamor of her thoughts. It was doing nothing now.

Chris accepted the cigarette back, finishing it off and grinding the cherry down on the step below him until there was no sign of the glowing heat. _Damn. He could really use a joint._

“Fuck,” he heard her mutter to herself a second later, “smokin’ a blunt would be so fuckin’ good right now.”

The tiniest of smiles formed on his mouth. That was it, Natalia voicing what he had just been thinking, that was all it took for his head to clear, for the simple truth to hit him with clarity.

Suddenly, his chest filled with overwhelming emotions – _love_ and _devotion_. This woman was _everything_ to him. He had been through so much with her. He had build a life, a home, a _family_ , with her. Nothing could destroy that.

They were a never-ending game. Like tetris, the game that may seem complicated at first, until you gained confidence along the way when the pieces joined up and aligned. Soon enough, you’d realize not all the pieces would fit together. The danger and fear of failing would shake that confidence, making you feel like you’ve had enough of it and want out. Until you saved yourself. Until you came to terms with the fact that of course not everything would fit together properly, that was the thrill of the game.

Here they were, two individuals, _pieces of the puzzle of life_. And their most valuable piece that they shared would always be the _one piece_ to hold them together – _love_.

There was no other woman, could never be another woman, that he would rather play tetris with.

Chuckling, Chris gave her shoulder a gentle shove. “I could tap into Bradley’s stash next door.”

With a smirk playing on her lips, elated that they were somehow still _them_ in the middle of the wreckage, Natalia replied, “Nuh-uh. Smothering Nancy’s kid?!”

His smile spread wider when she shyly met his gaze. “Y’know, when you say it like that, it sounds like we’re contemplating smothering Nancy’s kid for weed.”

Natalia let out a startling, hearty laugh, her hand clamping over her mouth to keep the noise down.

“Now, there’s an idea,” Chris added with a quirked brow, enjoying the sound of her muffled amusement. She always did have a great laugh, and even now his chest filled with pride that he could still bring it out of her.

They stared at each other for a long minute, smiling with the sky turning grayish blue with morning as the backdrop. Chris was the first to tear his gaze away, a sigh escaping him when he found the new day greeting them. They hadn’t slept a wink, and he wondered if their grown girl upstairs had been jerked awake by the dreams that found her when she was in distress.

“Are we…okay?” Natalia’s whispered question reached his ears.

Chris shrugged in response. “I don’t know.” He waited a moment before speaking again, “I think in the morning-” He cleared his throat, swinging his head to look at her, “-we should maybe schedule an appointment with Dr. Edwards.”

Natalia’s ears perked up. Dr Edwards, a marriage counselor that had guided them in the past. He wasn’t giving up. He was going to fight with her, fight for _them_.

Shifting to face him once again, she looked up with hope glittering in her orbs. Her heart skipped a beat with the tiny smile that adorned his lips.

“Okay,” Natalia said with a trembling smile of her own.

Chris nodded, “okay.” Curling an arm around her, he heaved a sigh when she laid her aching head comfortably on his shoulder. “We’ll be alright. This just is what it is, we can’t undo it. But don’t ever lie to me again.”

Her lips twitched at the sternness he picked up at the end. “I promise I won’t.” 

When she looped her arms around his middle to hug him from the side, she was more confident that he wouldn’t pull away.

And he didn’t. He wouldn’t.

“I love you,” Natalia said, rubbing her cheek on the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you, too.”

There was a long, rocky road ahead of them, and they weren’t over this bump quite yet, but onward they would go – _together_. 

“What do we do about…” Natalia trailed, gesturing back to the house with the tilt of her head.

Chris pressed his lips together, humming on an quick exhale. “Shit, I don’t know. We’ll figure it out…I mean, we will figure it out, because we have to.”

 _We’ll figure it out._ That seemed to be the only answer either one of them could come up with when asked the heavy query.

“My heart hurts for her, Chris.”

Chris frowned at the sound of his wife’s strained voice. His own was thick with emotion when he whispered against her hair, “I know, mine too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments on this one. I love you, all. I apologize for the long wait for the final part. I hope you enjoy it. :) xx


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